


Five Years to Bloom

by SilverPurity



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Can "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol be the official Ferdibert song?, Denial of Feelings, Dimitri and Ferdinand are friends and you can't change my mind, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Hanahaki Disease, Have my 5k worth of Word Vomit, Hubert is such a disaster, Hurt Ferdinand, I Made Myself Cry, I added another 5k worth of word vomit, I was listening to "A Fleeting Dream" from FFX when I wrote this, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, More like a Hanahaki Curse, Protective Dorothea, Thank you Twitter for dragging me into Ferdibert/Hubertinand Hell, What Was I Thinking?, no beta we die like men, protective Dimitri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-21 13:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverPurity/pseuds/SilverPurity
Summary: Feelings plant the seedTheir yearning makes it budIn the body, the flowers feedUpon their breathe and bloodRoots ensnare the soulAbsorbing love and trustUntil the blossom's final tollWhen all is ash and dust





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diddlydang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diddlydang/gifts).

“I am transferring classes.”

His quill snapped in his fingers and he could barely see Ferdinand’s reflexive flinch out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face the man that had slowly, but surely, wormed his way through Hubert’s emotional walls. Lady Edelgard had always been first and foremost in his mind and heart. Such was his duty as her vassal. But as study sessions, academy days, and tea parties bled together, Ferdinand--with all his stupidity and blind optimism--had somehow brought out a side to Hubert that he never knew existed.

He watched as white-gloved fingers ran through marigold locks, his amber orbs looking at a particular groove in the stone flooring. Hubert narrowed his eyes, which only served to worsen Ferdinand’s anxious state.

“What do you mean?” Hubert demanded.

“Well, I…” Ferdinand paused for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts before putting them to words. "Professor Manuela is an exceptional teacher and I have learned much from her. However, she has her strengths and weaknesses just like anybody else."

"Get to the point, Ferdinand."

"If I want to be a knight worthy of being Edelgard's rival and future prime minister, I must take my studies to someone with more experience. Professor Byleth knows how to handle lances and horseback riding better than Professor Manuela. It pains me to have to switch classes, since it means I won't see all my friends from the Black Eagles as much due to class scheduling. But surely  _ you _ must understand that I cannot let an opportunity like this pass me by?"

"It obviously doesn't bring you enough pain if you're willing to leave so easily."

"Hubert…" Ferdinand sighed as Hubert pulled out a spare quill, watching silently as the pale man crushed the remains of the broken one in his other hand. "This bothers you greatly, doesn't it?"

"Whatever gave you that impression?"

"If I know you as well as I think I do, you're imagining me as that mess of a feather you so mercilessly destroyed."

"Well then, you would be wrong as you always are."

"Again with the insults being a diversion from your true thoughts and feelings." Ferdinand took a seat next to Hubert. The von Vestra heir could feel those bright eyes burning a hole into the side of his head the longer their owner was ignored. Finally, a hand was placed on his shoulder, which caused Hubert to tense. "You can tell me anything, Hubert. I thought I've made that fact perfectly clear by now."

"Indeed you have. However, it is my choice whether to reveal anything or not. To be perfectly honest, you're better off not knowing the kinds of thoughts that run through my mind."

"What kinds of thoughts?"

"The forbidden kind."

"Such as?"

Such as the ones where Hubert imagined running his bare hands through those sunshine locks and claiming those soft, rosy lips for himself. Or the ones where he wanted to do intimate actions to the younger noble’s body. Such thoughts had been plaguing him for some time now. Hubert knew exactly what it meant--what it would lead to--and it bothered him immensely. His life was dedicated solely to Lady Edelgard and he had sworn to follow her as her loyal aide, regardless of what path she took.

Falling in love was never part of the plan. There was simply too much at stake. One slip-up could jeopardize everything. He could not afford to lose Lady Edelgard’s trust. However, his contemptibly weak heart would not allow him to completely forget about Ferdinand. He had but one life to give and only one person could receive it. Which meant there was only one choice to make.

To cut out that which was unnecessary, regardless of his personal feelings.

“...Are you taking notes on the curses of Brigid?”

“I am. What of it?”

Ferdinand shrugged. “I suppose I never took you for the curious type. You're always so practical with everything you do. I didn't think something as baseless as curses would pique your interest."

"Oh, they're not baseless at all. They're very real," Hubert replied as an unsettling smile spread across his face. "Petra has seen unspeakable horrors descend upon those unlucky enough to incur the wrath of Brigid's shamans. In fact, there is one curse in particular that is so unbelievably cruel that Brigid's ruler has explicitly forbade the use of it."

"How cruel, exactly?"

"That, I am still investigating. Petra refuses to divulge anything about it."

"I don't blame her for being hesitant!" Ferdinand quipped. "Goddess only knows what poor soul you plan to torment if they so much as breathe on Edelgard the wrong way."

Hubert chuckled darkly, but the sound no longer bothered Ferdinand like it used to. Sometimes, Hubert would miss that unnerved expression that used to contort von Aegir’s face in just the right way. Now, such laughter only managed to bring out a knowing smile--a smile meant for him and him alone.

He wanted to hate Ferdinand and everything that the von Aegir heir stood for. Hubert wanted to hate how the noble managed to bring out such feelings from his cold, rotten heart. To hate those vibrant eyes, filled with warmth and kindness for commoners and nobles alike. To hate the mirthful laughter that would always bring a smile to your face. To hate the playful banter Ferdinand and he would share whenever they shared a tea break together. To hate the way Ferdinand looked at him as more than just a comrade and classmate.

Why did Ferdinand have to look at him like that? Like he mattered? Like he was someone worth spending time with? Like he was a cherished friend?

It wasn’t supposed to end up this way. He was supposed to be devoted entirely to Lady Edelgard. There was no room to allow anyone else in his heart.

Damn the Goddess. Why did he have to choose?

* * *

It was to be their last mission together.

It was to be Ferdinand’s last mission as a Black Eagle before switching classes.

Everything had gone so horribly wrong.

It was supposed to be a routine mission. Rout the bandits that had been plaguing the nearby villages. A challenge that should have been easily completed by their class. However, they hadn’t been expecting an ambush from reinforcements and the Black Eagles had found themselves surrounded and outnumbered.

It was in that moment Hubert found himself in an impossible situation. Edelgard had been flanked and was facing numerous enemies by herself. On the other side of the battlefield, Hubert had spotted Ferdinand facing his own batch of thieves by himself. Both were left in an unfavorable position and one of the bandits was preparing for the killing blow.

He had reacted on instinct alone for that split second decision.

And he had chosen to save Ferdinand.

Hubert wanted to smite himself with his own dark magic for that choice.

By some miracle of the Goddess, Edelgard’s superior skill and reaction time saved her from certain death. However, Hubert had failed her as her vassal. He was supposed to protect  _ her _ , not the prime minister’s son.

He had lashed out at Ferdinand after the battle had ended. Called him horrible things, demeaning every achievement Ferdinand had ever told him about. Called him a useless cur, for if Ferdinand were a true noble he never would have been caught in such a precarious position. Hubert wanted to blame Ferdinand for everything, if only to ease the frustration and guilt he felt for his own failings.

How he wished he could forget the hurt and betrayal he saw in those beautiful eyes filled with unshed tears. The mere sight made his chest tighten and his heart ache.

On that day, Hubert decided that the only way to ease this blight upon his heart and mind was to eliminate the root cause of the issue.

He had to erase Ferdinand from his life, by any means necessary. Only then could he once again serve Lady Edelgard without reservation.

* * *

He cornered Petra and demanded her to perform the most ruthless curse in her repertoire. He cared not of the details. He only wanted to make the one responsible suffer a slow and painful death until the Goddess finally granted them her non-existent mercy. He gave her the impression that it was the bandits he wanted to punish and she hesitantly agreed, if only because she knew how close Edelgard was to losing her life that day.

All she required was the essence of the one who was to be cursed and a flower seed. Later that day, Hubert handed her a small pouch that contained a few strands of marigold hair and a single seed he had swiped from a bag of flower seeds in the monastery greenhouse. Petra never looked inside, trusting that Hubert only had the best intentions for Lady Edelgard.

That night, he watched her perform a ritual, chanting in her native language before tossing the pouch into the fire in the center of the pentagram.

"It has been done," the Brigid princess announced once the flames had died down to mere embers, glowing a gentle orange in the darkness. "Feelings plant the seed. Their yearning makes it bud. In the body, the flowers feed upon their breathe and blood. Roots ensnare the soul, absorbing love and trust. Until the blossom's final toll, when all is ash and dust.”

“Cryptic translation,” Hubert mused. “But, so long as it guarantees death, I could care less what the effects are.”

“Death is certain...only if love has not been returned equally,” Petra explained. “If they know their beloved feels the same about them, only then will the curse be broken.”

“Love?” Hubert spat venomously. “As if such a creature was capable of loving anything but himself.”

* * *

Ferdinand tries to reach out to him even after the class transfer, but Hubert ignores him.

He stands outside Hubert’s door most nights, trying to apologize for all the perceived slights Hubert accused him of and then some. Hubert can never bring himself to answer back. He knows that if he does respond, he’ll surely give in to those desperate pleas and fall further away from his duty.

It’s better this way, he tries to convince himself.

Besides, it would only be a matter of time before those knocks would cease altogether.

They never do.

* * *

Ferdinand is there when their forces invade the Holy Tomb and face off against the Blue Lions. When it is revealed who the Flame Emperor truly is, Hubert can see the sheer disbelief in those orange orbs even from across the room. 

Hubert’s gaze focuses solely on his former classmate and friend, committing every detail to memory.

He truly believed this would be the last time he would see Ferdinand.

* * *

Five years later, at Enbarr, Hubert is surprised to see a marigold knight among King Dimitri’s forces. Ferdinand has changed much in that time. He is no longer that lean teenager that would always get himself into trouble in his effort to prove himself superior to Lady Edelgard. Now, as one of the higher ranking generals of King Dimitri’s army, he has grown into a strong and capable leader. He fights with a grace and power that is so distinctly his that it makes Hubert’s chest clench painfully. Ferdinand could have been a powerful asset to Her Majesty had he not turned traitor and abandoned his homeland to serve a false king.

And yet, Hubert is perplexed. He could have sworn the curse casted upon the noble so long ago would have caused a premature end for his former classmate. Then again, perhaps Ferdinand had found love among the Blue Lions and the curse had long been broken.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The tight twisting within his stomach only makes him feel worse about turning his dark magic upon his old friend. But he would do anything that Her Majesty required. For the sake of her dream, he would cut down all who opposed her.

It isn’t long before they face off against one another and Hubert is able to make out the finer details. His frown deepens upon seeing the pale pallor of Ferdinand’s face, dark circles having formed under his eyes. Eyes once so brilliant that they could rival the sun had dimmed from the tides of war. The smile that could reach even Hubert’s ghastly soul was now replaced by a grimace, as if he was holding back all his emotions and physical pain.

“You’ve finally showed your face, traitor,” Hubert said. “I thank you for that. Now, after all this time, I can finally wipe away your existence from this earth.”

“Do you really loathe me that much, Hubert?” Ferdinand asked, so quietly that Hubert almost missed it. “All that time we spent together at the monastery...Did it truly meant nothing to you?”

“Absolutely nothing.” The lie slid out so easily, believable to all but himself.

“It meant something to me…” Ferdinand replied. There was a slight quiver to his voice, as if he was barely holding back his sorrow. “More than you realize.”

“That was nothing more than a fleeting dream, Ferdinand.” Dark magic began to crackle around his knuckles. “You would do well to remember that reality is not always what it seems.”

A bitter, mirthless laugh. “I could say the same to you.”

Ferdinand clutched his lance in a vice-like grip before launching off his steed and charging forward alone. The bold move was so that he would be a much smaller target for his magic to hit. Even as Hubert sent wave after wave of deadly magic, the orange-haired noble still came closer to him. Even as spells tore away at flesh and armor alike, blood splotching through his clothes like flowers in bloom, Ferdinand continued to come closer.

He threw his lance, almost mirroring Prince Dimitri when he discovered Lady Edelgard was the Flame Emperor. The aim was lousy and the speed pitiful, as if Ferdinand hadn’t the sheer strength to completely fling it with the deadly accuracy Hubert remembered him having in his youth. A simple sidestep brought him out of harm’s way, but it gave Ferdinand enough time to completely close the distance between them. He threw a hook straight into Hubert’s abdomen, immediately knocking the wind out of the mage. Thrown to the ground, Ferdinand dug his knee into Hubert’s ribs to prevent him from moving. He dug out a dagger from the back of his belt and poised it over Hubert’s neck. For several seconds, Ferdinand just hovered over him, dagger shaking in his grip.

Hubert scowled at him. “What are you waiting for? End it.”

“I can’t…” Ferdinand whispered as he shook his head, tears finally spilling from his eyes. “Goddess, damn me! I can’t do it!”

“Then damned you shall be.”

Using his unpinned arm, he knocked the dagger out of Ferdinand’s grip and snagged the flying weapon before his enemy could recover from the surprise attack. Ferdinand jerked backward slightly, just enough to loosen the pressure on Hubert’s ribcage. Using the brief opening to his advantage, Hubert gripped the knife and thrust it forward using all the strength he had. It sunk into Ferdinand’s chest, the sickening squelch ringing in his eardrums as the blade cut through flesh and something  _ not _ . Ferdinand fell forwards onto his back and Hubert followed him, pushing the weapon deeper into his enemy’s lung.

He pulled the dagger out, blood splattering onto his face in the process. Just as he raised the blade to drive it back into the man he wanted to erase from his life, his eyes caught sight of the hole he had previously made. Something was pushing out through it.

Then, Ferdinand began coughing. Hacking, shuddering coughs that brought forth his gushing lifeblood and white petals stained red from his mouth. Tips of roots and leaves poked through the hole in his chest, snaking outward like some nightmarish, tentacled creature. Ferdinand turned his head to the side, still coughing and gagging as his body convulsed from the lack of air entering his lungs. His hands gripped his neck, futilely trying to help push out whatever was clogging his airways. Peony flowers in full bloom came out of his mouth, slicked with bile, spit, and blood.

Hubert couldn’t bear to watch.

That was his mistake.

Arrows sunk into his back and he felt himself falling.

The last thing he saw as black encroached on his vision was Ferdinand; face coated with tears and crimson-spotted petals, weakly reaching out to him.

* * *

When he wakes, he is in chains, locked away in some godforsaken cell.

Dorothea visits him.

She glares at him and tells him that Emperor Edelgard has fallen.

With those words, he has nothing more to live for.

* * *

He’s not sure why he bothers to keep himself alive anymore.

Many of his old classmates--Byleth had spared them during Dimitri’s siege against the Empire--try to coax something out of him, trying to find some vestige of the Hubert they had once befriended. Their care and concern makes his whole body ache, like a dull throb of a bruise that refuses to heal. Yet, not once has he seen Ferdinand visit him. He asks about the knight’s absence the next time someone comes to his cell. It is Dorothea again. At the mere mention of the name, her eyes glisten and she turns away from Hubert.

“Ferdie is dying. Did you know that?”

The words echoed inside his head. Dying. Still alive, but not for much longer.

“How?” he questions her. “I did not think a mere stab to the chest would be enough to kill the great Ferdinand von Aegir.”

“Hubie, this isn’t about physical wounds. This is something worse,” she explains. “He’s been like this for some time. I only found out about it when I heard him coughing and gasping for breath one night. He coughs up flower petals. Sometimes, they come up so frequently that he chokes on them. I’m scared for him, Hubie. And according to Petra, there’s nothing we can do to help.”

“According to  _ Petra _ ?”

“His affliction is a curse from her homeland. They call it Hanahaki. Those who are afflicted suffer a gruesome fate. Flowers bloom within their body, feeding off of their love as it grows. So long as that love is unrequited...eventually, the plant takes over and the person dies...by asphyxiation.”

“I see…” He ignores the stab of guilt in his gut. “Do you know who it is? Who does he love so much that he’s going to die over it?”

Her steely eyes turned back to him, a snarl threatening to mar her beautiful features. “Funny that you, of all people, are asking that.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Hubie, you always were the most perceptive of the Black Eagles. And yet, you never cease to surprise me. How can you be so unbelievably dense?”

Hubert bit his lip, his gnawing suspicion growing and something akin to fear began to consume him. “What are you implying, Dorothea?”

“It’s you, Hubie,” she answered with a frustrated huff. “Despite everything that has happened, he never thought of anyone else but you.”

“...You’re wrong. There is no way Ferdinand would--”

“Yes, he would and still does. You rejecting him all those years ago and then leaving with Edie almost destroyed him,” she snapped. “Goddess, he was a mess for the rest of the time we spent at the monastery. I don’t know how long he had to sift through his thoughts, wondering what he could have done to change your minds; wondering what he could have done had he been stronger or perhaps what could have existed between you two if you hadn’t spurned him. Not to mention the tears shed in silence since then or the struggles he endured when he decided to face against his own country.”

Tears began to fall from her eyes. “He can’t talk much anymore because it only brings up more flowers. He’s completely bedridden because he no longer has the strength to move. But, he still finds it in himself to smile for us because he doesn’t want any of us to mourn for him.”

“He loves you so much that it’s killing him, Hubie. He knows that. Yet, you have the gall to spit on that love and turn him away. You don’t deserve someone like Ferdie.”

“...It’s true,” he muttered. “I don’t. And I never will.”

* * *

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s last seen sunlight or had anything to eat that wasn’t complete slop. Dorothea has stopped coming down to sold him. He hasn’t had anything to do but think. His mind wanders and it keeps bringing up mental pictures of his fallen Emperor and Ferdinand being covered in a white sheet.

He’s not sure how much longer he can take it before someone comes to him.

This time, it’s Dimitri.

“To what do I owe the honor of having  _ His Majesty _ visit the likes of me?”

“A last wish,” the one-eyed king replied, a somber air hovering about him. “It’s all I can do for him now.”

A rock falls straight to the bottom of Hubert’s stomach and he can feel the weight of the world on his body as he’s taken away from his cell. His feet drag, not at all due to the chains shackled to his ankles. As he’s led by the Duscur bear of a man and the false king from dour dungeon walls to ornate hallways, Hubert realizes he’s in Fhirdiad.

They bring him to one of the topmost towers. The sunlight gently streams through the open window and lands on the sole occupant lying motionless in bed. Ferdinand looks almost ethereal. Yet, there is a sickly paleness to his skin and a hollowness in his cheeks. Thin hands are intertwined over his abdomen, as if he is ready to greet the Goddess already. His chest barely rises and falls, his body taking in wheezy breathes that Hubert can hear even from across the room. There are peony petals everywhere, most splotched with vermilion.

He can’t find it in himself to move any closer.

This isn’t Ferdinand. This couldn’t be the same plucky noble he remembered. Ferdinand had always seemed so strong, an intangible wall for all enemies that dared to face him. Not this pale wisp of a man on the verge of death.

Then Hubert realizes that he caused this. All the pain and suffering Ferdinand endured over the last five years and the peonies still blooming within his body: these were the result of a curse and unrequited love. Love for Hubert. Love that Ferdinand had felt since their academy days and still felt to this day.

And he never once knew that Hubert had felt the same way, all this time.

Hubert finally finds the strength to shuffle over to Ferdinand’s bedside. He cares not for the single gaze of the King burning into his back. All that matters is the two amber orbs staring back at him, slightly surprised at seeing him. Hubert figures that he must look like death warmed over, but he hasn’t the time nor the patience right now to explain himself. Ferdinand opens his mouth, as if he wishes to speak, but Hubert shushes him.

“I have much to atone for,” Hubert tells him. “If the Goddess does indeed exist, I doubt she will grant me mercy when my final hour has come. But if I must do one thing right in my wretched life, let it be this.”

He reaches over to Ferdinand and holds one of his fragile hands in his own. Ferdinand’s eyes widen at the action, unsure of Hubert’s true intentions.

“I wanted to hate you. I wanted to forget you. For five years, I desired nothing more than your complete annihilation. But you are like the sun: always there, necessary for life, but forever out of reach. I failed in my duty and my sole reason for living is now gone. But you are still here...and if nothing is done, I will lose you too. I’ve ruined your life without having to lift a finger, but I have no desire to be the cause of your death. Not like this...”

“Hubert.” Ferdinand struggles to say. His voice is quiet, but hoarse from disuse. Hubert can see a few petals fall from his lips. “It’s alright.”

Hubert shakes his head. “Do not lie. Nothing about this is alright. The fault is mine and mine alone. I did this to you. The Hanahaki curse...That was me as well.”

Ferdinand says nothing, but there is no hatred in his expression. Hubert can feel the dam inside him crumbling into dust.

“Why don’t you hate me? I’ve caused you so much suffering and heartache. I wanted to  _ kill  _ you, Ferdinand. How can you stand to look at me and still...”

“Because that’s just you, Hubert,” Ferdinand replied, lightly squeezing the hand that held his own. “That’s how you’ve always been. And that person, flaws and all, is who I fell for. If I must fall into the arms of the Goddess for feeling this way, then so be it. At least, I will know that what I felt was true.”

“Shut up. Just...shut up. You’re making a mess of yourself again.”

“I’m sorry…” Ferdinand coughed out, more petals coating his bed. His eyes slid shut. “You were right…when you said I’d never measure up to her. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t...even now I’m still...”

“Don’t talk like that,” Hubert snapped at him. “You are not Lady Edelgard. You are Ferdinand von Aegir. You are the man who always strives to better himself. Your very nature brings out the best in others. You have a smile so beautiful that it shames all the stars in the heavens and a laugh that brightens even the darkest of days. And...”

He doesn’t want to say it. He knows he can’t. Instead, he leans forward, shifting his weight so that he does not crush the fragile body beneath him. He cups Ferdinand’s head as best he can, bringing him forward. Hubert closes the distance between them and finally places a tender kiss upon bloody lips. A dream, once nothing more than a wistful fantasy, now a reality.

“Please, don’t die.” Hubert whispers to him, brushing his forehead against Ferdinand’s. “If I should lose you, then I will follow after you. No Goddess will stop me from staying by your side, regardless of what damned fate awaits me in the hereafter.”

Ferdinand opened his eyes again; eyes filled with hope and voice clear of petals. “Hubert…?”

“I love you, Ferdinand. I’ve felt this way for far too long. I should have told you...” Hubert sighs. “But I was conflicted. My duty had to come first before my own desires. I shut you out, hoping that what I felt would eventually just disappear. I was such a fool. Five years have passed since I cut you out of my life and still my mind drifts to those halcyon days. What I wouldn’t give to share a cup of tea with you again...”

“At that same table by the white rose bush?” Ferdinand smiles at him. “I’d love to.”

* * *

Ferdinand’s recovery lasts months, but Hubert is by his side the entire time.

* * *

“What do you mean you were in on it the entire time!?”

“Goodness, Hubert. I’ve never seen you this flustered,” Edelgard giggles. “Hiding away in Enbarr was worth it, if only so I could see that face you’re making right now.”

“Lady Edelgard, this is serious!” Hubert groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I spent the past ten months believing you to be dead! And you’re telling me it was  _ you  _ who told Dorothea to tell me you had perished!?”

“Hubert, I placed a terrible burden on you without even realizing it. I want to apologize for that, first and foremost,” she explains. “You’re not just my vassal; you’re also my cherished friend. I want you to be happy. If serving me was causing you great emotional pain, then I would have found a way to make things right.”

“But--!”

Edelgard frowns at him. “Would you have willingly confessed to Ferdinand on his deathbed had I still been ‘alive’? You most certainly would have let him die if it meant that I had one less obstacle in my way, regardless of how you truly felt.”

He sighs. “That is true. You know me too well.”

“The Professor believes that Dimitri and I can achieve our dreams, but only by working together. They both took a chance on me by letting me live when they seized the throne room. I will not squander it.”

“Lady Edelgard…”

She smiles knowingly at him. “So, when’s the wedding?”

“Sometimes, I cannot tell whether you are brilliant or just plain evil…”

“Both. After all, you’re an excellent role model.”

* * *

They hold their wedding in Enbarr, in the old Mittlefrank Opera House that Ferdinand loved so much.

Hubert honestly doesn’t remember most of it.

But he does remember how radiant his future husband looked. His smile that shone brighter than the sun. His eyes sparkling, filled with nothing but love. Dressed in his best, hair braided with snow-white peony flowers to bless them with a happy marriage as they shared their new life together.

Blessed with prosperity and good fortune, no longer ashamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am weak for Hanahaki fics and I am weak for Ferdibert/Hubertinand. I don't know if I want to add another chapter with Ferdie's point of view or maybe an epilogue, because they totally get to have a happy family because Hubert totally defies the laws of nature and magicks up a Black Magic Baby for the two of them because he loves Ferdie so much and wants to make him the happiest hubbu of all time, but that's a decision for another time. Hope you enjoy the angst. I'm currently very dead and emotionally drained. OOF.
> 
> Thank you diddlydang for making me love these disaster boys even more than before!


	2. Chapter 2

Five years have passed since the fall of Garreg Mach. Five years since he last saw Edelgard and Hubert before they pointed their blades towards the church. Five years of hiding tears and frustration behind a facade of optimism. Five years of cursing Hubert for lying to him and leaving him. Five years of living with his regret over not telling Hubert that he loved him. Five years of searching for any trace of Faerghus's lost prince--hoping to find his friend alive, despite the swirling rumors about his execution. Five years of the growing tightness in his chest, stealing his breath away and leaving him gasping for air.

Ferdinand wasn't sure when it first started happening. It was a gradual occurrence and he really hadn't noticed it until Professor Byleth returned, along with Prince Dimitri. Once he was placed back into fierce training sessions with the professor and Felix, Ferdinand couldn't help but notice how quickly he lost his breath and how difficult it became to breathe in general.

He wanted to attribute it to the overwhelming aura that radiated off of Dimitri's form whenever Ferdinand was nearby. Dimitri's hatred for the Empire had festered and grown due to his long isolation, fighting only to survive and to claim Edelgard's head. Anything remotely related to the Empire threatened to bring out the beast that Felix warned about. After nearly losing his head in the hallway on his way to the dining hall, Ferdinand made it a priority to stay out of Dimitri's sight. It pained him more than he was willing to admit. Dimitri had been so welcoming and kind when Ferdinand transferred from the Black Eagles to the Blue Lions. The two eventually became friends, bonding over training sessions, sharing lance techniques, and spending the occasional tea time together. Now, it was as if those days never existed in Dimitri's mind. Ferdinand was from the Empire; therefore, he was considered an enemy and could not be trusted.

However, the symptoms persisted even when he was alone and Ferdinand began to wonder if he was unwell in some way. He went to see Mercedes about it, but she couldn't find anything physically wrong with him. She recommended plenty of bedrest, especially since they were at war and sleepless nights were--unfortunately--a common occurrence for most soldiers.

And so, he steeled himself, locking away any hesitance or grief he felt for deciding to ally with Faerghus. By choosing this path, he had to fight against the land of his birth and any sentimentality associated with it. He could not afford to be weak. Their meager forces were dwarfed by the sheer numbers of the Imperial army, which meant that Dimitri's closest and strongest comrades often took to the front lines. Felix and Sylvain were a deadly pair, as was the Professor and Dimitri. It was during these brief moments when his mind would wander, drifting to memories better left forgotten. Hubert was long gone, far out of his reach. No amount of longing and wishing would ever steer Hubert from Edelgard's side. Hubert would willingly die for Edelgard if she gave the command for him to throw his life away. The realization bit into his heart, sinking its teeth deep into his soul.

As the war dragged on, more lives were lost and Ferdinand could feel his own health declining. A persistent cough accompanied him everywhere, which caused him to keep to himself so as not to spread his ailment to others. His coughing fits grew more frequent and each one was a little worse than the last. He counted himself lucky if he felt well enough just to chat with Annette, Mercedes, or the Professor. Things he did on a daily basis tired him out, leaving him panting as he struggled to get air into his lungs. There were times when he could feel himself choking, though he didn't know what was clogging his throat. These incidents were rare, but it terrified him regardless; terrified of the feeling of dying and of someone finding out about his condition. He couldn't afford to be off the battlefield. Professor Byleth had made it clear that he was one of their most valued soldiers. Whether it was his sheer stubbornness to prove himself to Edelgard and Hubert or a desire to make things right for Dimitri's sake, Ferdinand swore he would bring peace back to Fódlan or die trying.

* * *

"Ferdinand?"

The von Aegir heir let out an undignified squeak, spinning his head to look over his shoulder so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Ferdinand gulped, seeing Dimitri standing across the training grounds. Ever since Rodrigue's death, the future king of Faerghus had mellowed out considerably. However, Ferdinand remained on the cautious side. He didn't want to cause any more undue stress or trouble for his former friend, deciding to remain mostly in his personal quarters or to practice at the training grounds. Today, however, his training had been cut short due to his damnably, persistent coughing fits more so than the arrival of Dimitri.

"Ah, Your Majesty! Forgive me!" Ferdinand hastily bowed, trying to fight back another coughing fit that was building in the back of his throat. "I'll leave right away!"

"Peace, Ferdinand. You've done nothing wrong," Dimitri said, his one eye filled with shame. "I came here hoping to apologize for my despicable behavior towards you."

"Oh…Really?" Ferdinand scratched the back of his head, unsure of how to respond. He let out a soft sigh. "You don’t need to apologize, Your Majesty. Honestly, I cannot blame you for feeling the way you did. Your rage was understandable, considering the horrors you've experienced. I can't say that it didn't hurt, to go from being a valued friend to a perceived enemy in your eyes, but I hoped that you would once again find the light in your life. It seems that the day has finally come where we can greet each other as old friends again."

"Friends don't try to cut your head off if they so much as see you," Dimitri lowered his head. "The way I treated you was deplorable. How can you still consider me a friend? You should have every reason to hate me."

"I'm just grateful my head is still attached to my neck after all this time," Ferdinand replied with a laugh, hoping to lighten the King's mood. "Do not fret over it, Dimitri. Not once did I ever think ill of you for behaving that way. I know you are a good man at your core. It just took some time for that man to return."

"You have a bigger heart than most, Ferdinand," Dimitri stated, a small smile gracing his features. "I promise to make things up to you--and everyone else--starting now."

"If that's the case, then would you care to join me for tea later? I'm sure we both have a lot of catching up to do."

"I'd be honored to." Dimitri then turned his attention to the wooden lance that Ferdinand had been leaning on for support. "Did I interrupt your training?"

"Not at all," Ferdinand explained, placing the lance back with the rest of the practice equipment. “I was actually preparing to leave when you showed up.”

“I see…”

“D-Don’t take it the wrong way, Your Majesty! It’s not that I’m afraid to spar with you! It’s just--”

Ferdinand choked, his words falling short as something came up the back of his throat. He hunched over, clutching his throat as he began to cough. Ferdinand hacked and hacked, feeling tears pricking at his eyes as the thing in his throat refused to move. He could feel the searing heat forming in his lungs, the lack of oxygen entering his body slowly causing black spots to fill his vision. He never noticed when Dimitri rushed over to him, hands holding his trembling form steady.

An almost bone-breaking smack into his back finally allowed the _ thing _to move, along with the rest of his stomach’s contents. He fell to his knees, gagging as he puked up everything he had eaten that day. When his body finally decided he was finished, he was left gasping for breath. He hesitantly peeked at the mess he made. He was mortified by the repulsive sight, but he froze at the sizable white glob sitting right in the middle of the bile.

What in the Goddess’s name was _ that _?

“Are you alright?”

“I...honestly don’t know,” the von Aegir heir rasped out. Hesitantly, he reached out for the white glob and grabbed it. Upon closer inspection--and ignoring his disgust at both the sight and smell of the object--Ferdinand was left even more confused. “These are...flower petals?”

Dimitri’s eye narrowed. “You need to see Manuela. Now.”

“No!” Ferdinand objected. “Please, Your Majesty, do not tell anyone about this! I promise that this will not hinder me in battle. I can still fight!”

“Ferdinand…” Dimitri sighed. “I will not force you, but I’d rather you not suffer in silence. Whatever _ this _ is...it's not normal. I do not wish for you to join the ranks of the dead. Hearing your voice among those who have already fallen...I don’t think I could bear it.”

“I understand, Dimitri. I promise you, my friend, that I will not die. Not until Fodlan knows peace once again.”

* * *

After the incident in the training grounds, his coughs start bringing up flower petals.

He brings them to Dedue, hoping to understand what they were. Thankfully, Dedue does not question where the petals came from.

“Peony petals,” the man of Duscur had answered. “They are quite lovely this time of year. This is the time when the blossoms begin to bloom.”

“Peonies…” Ferdinand mused, remembering the vast gardens of the Aegir estate. “Don’t those plants take about five to seven years for their flowers to bloom?”

“Indeed,” Dedue nodded. “Peonies are much beloved for their beautiful petals. They represent honor, compassion, and riches. They are often presented to couples to bless them with a happy marriage. However, it is also believed that they represent shame.”

“Happy marriages and shame…”

A reminder of his painful reality; of everything that could never be.

Ferdinand could taste the irony and it tasted of copper and leaves.

* * *

Ferdinand can see the ravages of war weighing heavily on everyone as they march from the Alliance towards Enbarr.

He can feel something coiling inside his lungs and the feeling only becomes more pronounced the longer the war drags on. It saps his strength and he begins to feel weaker with each passing day.

He’s begun to cough up full peony flowers now. They’re often spotted with vermilion--his own blood. Sometimes, they catch in his throat and he starts to choke on them, nearly passing out from the lack of oxygen. He prays to the Goddess each time that he cannot die just yet.

Not until the war ends. Not until he can see Hubert one last time.

Hubert was there at Arianrhod, the Silver Maiden, but Ferdinand had missed that fight.. He had been resting in bed at the time, recovering from wounds from a previous battle. Wounds caused by a coughing fit at the worst possible time.

As the days passed by, the more he dreamt of Hubert. Of his sinister laugh that had surprisingly grown on Ferdinand during their academy days. Of those few genuine smiles Hubert gave him when he believed Ferdinand wasn't looking. Of those snake green eyes that used to look at him so fondly.

Now Ferdinand can only imagine the scorn and hate in those eyes.

The memories suffocate him, joining the flowers in their squeeze on his lungs.

* * *

More of his old friends from his academy days begin to show up, spared by the Professor’s kindness. He wants to leap with joy, but he still cannot bring himself to face anyone. He keeps to himself, trying to keep his sickness a secret from everyone. That doesn't stop his old Black Eagle classmates from trying to talk with him. Dorothea in particular kicks his door as she tries to persuade him to come out, stating that she doesn't want him to turn into a recluse like Bernadetta. It pains him to turn them away, but it takes all his self-control to fight back against the relentless coughing fits that still plagued him.

Dimitri is still the only one who knows about his worsening condition and he has spent more time than necessary researching, hoping to find a cure to Ferdinand's mystery ailment. Ferdinand feels horrendous guilt for thrusting more unneeded work onto the king, but Dimitri tells him not to worry about it.

He tries to avoid Dimitri after that. Unfortunately, true to Felix's nickname, "the boar" was somehow even more stubborn than Dorothea. Dimitri finally corners him one day, following him into his old dorm room rather than attempting to kick down the door like the songstress.

Knowing that this would be a losing battle from the start, Ferdinand settles on making tea for the both of them. There is a heavy burden weighing on the king's mind and Ferdinand waits patiently for when his friend feels ready to talk. He tries his best to keep his coughing under control, but he cannot help the stray petals that get stuck in his mouth. Upon seeing Ferdinand dump the spit-coated petals into a nearby waste bin filled with blood-specked peonies, Dimitri takes a deep breath after taking a few sips of tea.

“You’ve been cursed,” Dimitri tells him, his one eye giving Ferdinand a stern look.

Ferdinand blinks at the king, confused. “Cursed?”

“I recently spoke with Petra and asked her if she had encountered anything similar to the symptoms you’ve been showing,” he explained. “She said she knows of only one thing that can cause someone to cough up flowers: a curse that originates from her homeland.”

"So, I incurred the wrath of some Brigid spellcaster? But I have never even been to Brigid!"

"I cannot say for sure, but…" Dimitri frowned, worry etched into his features. "Whatever the case may be, if we cannot lift this curse…"

Ferdinand felt a rock drop into the pit of his stomach. There was despair and pain written all over Dimitri's expression. His sole eye focused on Ferdinand, as if he might disappear if Dimitri broke eye contact with the noble. "Why are you looking at me like that? What will happen to me if this curse is not lifted?"

"If the curse runs its full course...you will die."

_ You will die. _

The words circle around in his head, stabbing him with the reality of his situation. He feels sick and his grip on the teacup disappears. The delicate ceramic shatters upon impact with the floor, spilling tea all over the red carpet. He can feel his lungs seize and he falls to his knees, curling in on himself as he coughs into his hands.

Blood and flowers fall.

Tears join them soon after.

* * *

_ I am going to die. _

His mind repeats it like a mantra.

_ I am going to die because I love Hubert. _

The Hanahaki Curse. A spell cast upon a victim, forcing flowers to grow within their lungs. These flowers feed upon the victim's love for another. Should that love remain unreciprocated, the flowers take over and the person suffocates to death..

_ I am going to die because Hubert does not love me. _

And why would he? Hubert had made it clear that he despised Ferdinand. His last mission with the Black Eagle House ended whatever tentative friendship they had.

_ “Worthless cur. Ignorant fool. Hopeless knight. You will never be enough.” _

* * *

"Ferdie!"

"...'Thea?"

He can feel something wet sliding down his face. His vision is blurry, but he can see the look of terror in Dorothea's face. She is crying, though Ferdinand isn't sure why.

He also doesn't remember why he was lying on the floor. He attempts to move, but a sharp pain in his lungs prevents him from getting up. He takes in a few breathes, but they sound more like pained gasps. Healing light from Dorothea's hand glows softly, hovering right over his chest. She glares at him, but there is no anger in her emerald orbs.

"Ferdie, what were you _ thinking _!?"

He winces under her fiery gaze, but his confusion wins out in the end. "What happened?"

"I heard you coughing...then there was a loud thump...and then nothing. I got worried. I'm not apologizing for breaking down your door."

"I see…"

"Is that all you have to say!?" She snapped. "I had to remove flowers from your throat so you could breathe! Coughing up flowers isn't normal! Why would you hide something like this!?"

"I didn't want you to worry. This war hasn't been easy for any of us. I did not want to burden the others with something as trivial as this."

"_ Trivial _? Oh, Ferdie…" Dorothea sighs. "You could never be a burden. We all care about you. Everyone is really worried about you."

"Everyone?"

"It isn't like you to be so distant. How could we not notice?"

"I'm sorry…"

"But is this why you've been isolating yourself? The flowers?"

The flowers. The damned flowers that would steal him away from this world. The blasted flowers that were a constant reminder of his failures. A symbol of the parasitic love that continued to consume him, body and soul.

He breaks down and tells her everything.

* * *

Dorothea is furious. Probably expressing all the rage and frustration that Ferdinand no longer had the energy to channel.

He told her that the person he loved was Hubert and that he had felt this way for five years.

Somehow she isn't surprised, which surprises Ferdinand. Had he been that much of an open book?

She swears vengeance, planning on throttling Hubert the next time she sees him. That is if Dimitri doesn't do it first.

Of course Dorothea informed the one other person who knew of Ferdinand's plight. Ferdinand almost wishes he didn't tell her that bit of information, but their care and concern for him is heartwarming. It feels nice. The two have such noble hearts.

But he wonders how much time he has left. He can feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He can't keep food down--it comes back up most of the time, accompanied by bile-drenched, blood-soaked peonies. No amount of tea can wash away the taste of iron that clings to his tongue. The coughing fits have become violent, expending what little energy he manages to keep. They jerk him awake at night to the point that he fears falling asleep and never waking the next morning.

But the war continues, even if his body is failing him.

* * *

They finally face off against one another for the first time in years in the capital city of Enbarr.

Ferdinand had to cut down his own countrymen in his rush to get to Hubert. Every muscle in his body ached and his lungs felt like they would combust within his chest.

Traitor, Hubert calls him. The word stings, but Ferdinand won't deny it.

Their match doesn’t last long and he manages to catch Hubert off guard. But when the time comes to end Hubert’s life, Ferdinand cannot do it. He cannot kill the man he has loved for so long. Ferdinand wants to hate himself for being so weak. Just another stark difference between him and Edelgard, showing that he will never be anything of worth.

Hubert uses his hesitancy to his advantage. He takes the dagger and thrusts it deep into Ferdinand’s chest. It digs through ribs and muscle before finally puncturing his lung. All at once, he can feel the plant pushing its way out through the wound. He feels sick as the feeling causes him to descend into another violent coughing fit. Blood and peonies pour out of his mouth with each hacking cough. His neck burns as his body expels everything inside him in an effort to remove the petals sticking to the inside of his throat.

Ferdinand briefly wonders if this is the end for him. If it is, then dying by the hands of the one he loved isn’t such a horrible fate. It’s far better than trading his life for deadly blossoms.

Hubert turns away from him, no doubt disgusted by the pathetic excuse of a man lying before him.

Ferdinand sees arrows fly from Ashe’s bow and sink into Hubert’s back.

He watches Hubert fall, light fading from those jade eyes.

_ Please, no… _

He tires to reach out to him, but he can barely move. So close, but once again Hubert remains out of his reach.

It isn’t long before Dorothea is beside him, brushing away tears from his cheeks and pleading with him to hang on as she attempts to heal him. 

He feels tired. He’s so tired of everything. Of the war, of his own weaknesses, of this love that he will take to the grave with him.

Voices garble together as his vision fades and he gratefully plunges into the eternal abyss before him.

* * *

When he wakes, he is in Fhirdiad.

Byleth tells him the war is over. She also reprimands him for hiding away and not telling anybody about his illness. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with her, which only causes her concern to grow.

All he can tell her is that he is going to die, regardless of what anyone tries to do. That much is certain.

Her expression twists into a mixture of pain and sorrow. He smiles at her, telling her not to worry about him. Even as he wastes away, he’s happy for the life he has lived. Grateful for the friends he has made. Proud of the fact that he was able to help end the war, even though he will not live to see true peace restored to Fódlan.

He has many regrets, but he supposes that it's only natural for someone to carry the weight of those regrets to the grave. Every thought, every feeling, every word left unsaid will die with him, his entire existence living on only through the memories of those who knew him.

* * *

He can feel it. As if the Goddess Herself is calling to him.

Today is the day he is going to die.

“You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”

“Your Majesty…” Ferdinand looks at the grieving king. It takes all his effort just to turn his head towards Dimitri, watching him run a frustrated hand through his blond hair. “I’ve made peace with my fate.”

Dimitri growled. “You shouldn’t have to! You should be in Adrestia, taking on your role as Prime Minister and helping to repair the damage we caused to your country!”

“Do not place blame on yourself. You are not at fault.”

“Please, don’t speak too much,” Dimitri pleaded, seeing the petals fall from Ferdinand’s mouth. “Save your strength.”

“Dimitri?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask something of you?”

“Of course.”

“I want to see him. Just one more time…before I die.” Ferdinand coughs. “Perhaps it will only hasten my end, but…”

A solemn nod. “...As you wish.”

The next time he sees Dimitri, he is accompanied by a disheveled, but very much alive Hubert.

Ferdinand could not believe his eyes. Hubert was still alive. It was obvious he had been kept a prisoner, judging by the filth and muck lining every inch of his clothes and body. There are chains wrapped around his ankles and wrists, but it looks like they have been loosened just enough for free movement. Hubert just stares at him for the longest time, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing; as if the person before him couldn't possibly be the noble Ferdinand von Aegir.

It takes Hubert a good few minutes before he finally shuffles over to him. He sits down on the edge of the bed and Ferdinand has so much to say. So much he wants to tell Hubert. To tell him how sorry he was that things turned out the way they did. To tell him about the curse that would soon claim his life. To tell him how much he wished he could stay with everyone. To tell him those three words he has wanted to say for five years.

Hubert hushed him, seemingly knowing about the incoherent mess that was brewing in Ferdinand's mind. Hubert begins to speak and he takes hold of one of Ferdinand's hands, holding it so gently that Ferdinand wondered if he had somehow already died and gone to the hereafter. There was no way the things Hubert was saying could be true. It sounded like Hubert didn't want him to die. But didn't Hubert hate him? Ferdinand had accepted that as a fact for five years, despite how much the realization hurt. Now, it seemed like Hubert was trying to tell him that Ferdinand had become his reason to live.

"Hubert." He barely manages to say. "It's alright."

_ I'm sorry that I'm going to end up hurting you, _ Ferdinand wants to say, if not for the peonies that threatened to come up his throat. _ I'm sorry that I will be leaving you alone in this world... _

Hubert snaps at him. And then, he explains that he was the one who cast the curse on Ferdinand. Hubert was the entire reason he was lying here. Yet, Ferdinand isn't angry at him. How can he be? The whole reason the curse was killing him was because he loved Hubert. That love was real, regardless of the pain and suffering he endured.

That is his only solace.

Perhaps Hubert does not hate him, but Ferdinand knows that Hubert does not love him. He is not like Edelgard. He is flawed. Weak. Too emotional. Not even considered her equal. He knows this. He accepts it, even though he does not want to. He will never be enough for Hubert. Ever.

He can feel the darkness pulling him down into the abyss. He no longer has the strength to keep his eyes open, to fight back against the deadly petals flooding his lungs. Hubert's voice becomes muffled. He can feel the warmth of Hubert's hand fade away, feeling his own fall to the cold sheets. The chill is consuming him and his senses begin to fade.

_ Is this it…? _

"Please, don't die."

All at once, he can feel the warmth spread back into his body, starting from his lips. Greasy locks of hair cling to his forehead and he can feel trembling hands cradling his head.

"If I should lose you, then I will follow after you. No Goddess will stop me from staying by your side, regardless of what damned fate awaits me in the hereafter."

He can hardly believe his ears. Ferdinand slowly opens his eyes again. Hubert looks to be on the verge of tears, looking at him with such tenderness he has never shown to anyone. "Hubert…?"

"I love you, Ferdinand."

_ I _ ** _love_ ** _ you. _

_ I love _ ** _you_ ** _ . _

_ I love you, _ ** _Ferdinand_ ** _ . _

For the first time in five years, he can breathe again. He'll need to, for those four words alone were enough to steal his breath away all over again.

* * *

Ferdinand counts his blessings.

The peonies are completely gone, but the curse has taken its toll on him. He'll likely be bedridden until he can get his energy back. From there, light physical activity to help build his muscle back until he's ready for more weapons training.

And Hubert has remained by his side since the day the curse was lifted.

Dimitri threatens to snap Hubert's neck if he ever tries to hurt Ferdinand in such a way again. Dorothea threatens to crush Hubert's manhood barehanded. Ferdinand knew the songstress could be more terrifying than a rampaging army of Demonic Beasts when she wanted to be, but never had he actually feared for someone's life because of her rage.

Byleth relocates the two of them to Garreg Mach, hoping to keep a close eye on both of them; Ferdinand for his health and Hubert for literally everything else. Byleth gives Hubert a stern warning, hoping that he'll accept the mercy he had been granted and dedicate his life to something more important than his Emperor's dream.

"Ferdinand?”

Ferdinand turns his head. The two of them were lying in one of the surrounding fields around the monastery. They teemed with wildflowers, filling the air with the delicate scent of spring.

"What is it?" he asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Do you think it foolish of me...to wish that I could lay here with you? Always?”

Ferdinand reaches over, linking their hands together. Hubert is hesitant to return the gesture, but he slowly eases into it. Then, Ferdinand rolls over to Hubert’s side, placing a soft kiss to the mage’s temple. With a smile, he whispers a promise to his love.

“I’ll lay here with you, now and forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a necessary evil. I delight in writing angst way more than I should.
> 
> I'm kinda on the fence about the quality of this chapter, so please be gentle with me. I tried. T^T


End file.
